To Have And To Hold
by MissCorrie
Summary: What if Carla did marry Frank?
1. Chapter 1

To Have and to Hold

_There probably already is a fic with this idea, but I haven't looked – so I'm sorry if there is!_

_I've been watching the scenes before the rape and it was made very obvious that Carla never wanted to marry Frank, so why she would change her mind I will make more clear later on. Otherwise, things are pretty much the same in 2011 up to the night before their wedding. A few things to remember;_

_She hasn't been raped by Frank yet_

_Rob has not been introduced_

_Michelle has not returned yet_

_Peter looks like he does now ;)_

_And reviews are appreciated! _

* * *

After a long wait, it was his first chance that night to talk to her; she was finally alone and his own wife had left his side to go to the bathroom, at last. She stood before him and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her before. Her dark long hair curled and tumbled down her back perfectly complimenting the indigo silk dress she was wearing. Smoky but subtle make up covered her emerald eyes looking at him, though Peter was sure he could see sadness in them. Carla's hand clutched another fresh glass of champagne as she turned away from him to Frank, her new husband, dancing with the Underworld workers in the middle of the bistro. He was slightly drunk and his eyes were bleary but his suit attire was still intact, his hair in place – very Frank Foster. Sally was vying for his attention the most, Carla was certain she fancied him. However he still looked like he was the happiest person on earth, she just wished she felt the same way for him. Peter interrupted Carla's thoughts.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

In response, Carla scoffed at his question. He was the only person, other than herself, that knew how much she did not want to marry Frank. Time and time again she would tell Peter that it was him she loved, and every time he threw it back in her face, pushing her to Frank, messing with her emotions. She looked back at him, ready to hit him with a harsh answer but his lovely concerned brown eyes made her melt. Instead, she tries to be witty, in an attempt to divert their conversation.

"Too late to back out now, ay?" she replies with a smirk, before taking another sip of champagne. Peter noted in his head the amount of alcohol she was consuming tonight, but knew it wasn't appropriate now to bring it up. Several times that day the two of them caught eye contact, from across the street or the other side of the room at the ceremony, and at the reception. Each time they did he wanted to talk to Carla, assure himself that she's happy with Frank, convince himself that she's over him and then eventually get her out of his head, like it was that easy. But there was always someone in his way, Leanne mainly. She was probably more excited than anyone about this wedding; it was finally an opportunity to get Carla away from her husband.

Carla bit the side of her plump lip as she looked away from him once again, causing Peter to feel an unwelcome rush of desire for her. He didn't want to have these feelings for Carla, especially as they seemed to grow stronger whenever he saw her and his affection for Leanne seemed to drop by the second.

"Well, at least now we can all move on, eh?"

His suggestion almost choked Carla on her champagne. _Move on? _Like she was some sort of inconvenience in his and Leanne's lives, as long as they can get on with their cosy little world then no one else matters. If their marriage was so perfect, Carla wouldn't even be considered an issue. If both of them wanted a baby there would be one coming by now. If Leanne hadn't had cheated, Peter would trust her. If Leanne could trust Peter herself and stop being a hypocrite…

Carla stopped her thoughts as she seemed to drown herself in her own resentment. In some ways she wanted to be happy for them both if they could restore their marriage. She wanted to become Leanne's friend again, Carla missed their friendship. However, it was difficult considering how she felt for Leanne's husband. She turned to Peter again, his dark brown hair styled smartly into a short quiff, his tanned skin and his designer stubble made him so tempting to her. But it wasn't just his appearance that drew her to him, it was their connection. He'd deny it but they had an understanding no one else could ever understand.

"I suppose so-" Carla begun before she was interrupted. Frank flung his arms around her shoulder as he nodded to Peter.

"Mind if I borrow _my wife_?" Frank emphasized the words 'my wife' seemingly to mark his territory. Carla forced a smile on her face as she put down her glass, her disappointment of his arrival evident to Peter.

"Go ahead." Peter looked on as a reluctant Carla was led away by Frank toward the crowd of dancers, feeling a pang of jealousy as he saw Frank's hands all over her. Taking a deep breath, he turned away, making his way back to the table where his own wife was now sitting.

"What did he want?" Frank whispered into Carla's ear as they danced slowly together.

"He just offered his congrats." Carla replied, watching Peter from above Frank's shoulder as he sat with Leanne and his family. She longed to be in Leanne's position as she felt tears fill her eyes, cursing herself for probably making a huge mistake.

* * *

_Very short but thanks for reading, I wasn't sure whether Peter started to love Carla before her rape or slowly afterwards so I'm not really sure if he loves her in this chapter or not. Suggestions are welcome!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the very kind reviews!_

_ I agree Carla was fond of Frank and I think she would try hard to make her marriage work with him if she went through with the wedding_

_It's hard to pin point when exactly Peter did fall for Carla but I think by the time of her planned wedding to Frank he did have quite strong feelings for her, but also still loved Leanne, only less so as time passed..._

_Anyway I'm going to upload two chapters together because these are just Carla/Frank and Leanne/Peter central._

* * *

Carla had finished locking the factory door, turning round she was met by Frank, grinning at her as he leant on the edge of his car. She smiled back to Frank and walked towards him, her heels clanking against the cobbles.

"Are you avoiding me?" Her new husband asked her as their hands entwined. She partly was avoiding him; it was the morning after their wedding day and Carla was now nursing a hangover. He had carried her home, which was the most romantic thing to happen that night before she passed out on their bed. She'd woken up first and quickly made her way out of the apartment, wanting to gather her thoughts together. Carla looked at him from behind her sunglasses, the biggest ones she had to hide her tiredness.

"I just left Sally Webster a note on the desk-"

"Ah, I suppose you don't trust her holding the realms in the office?" Frank quipped as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I didn't say that!" Carla smirked at him, before she felt a surge of guilt for the previous evening, "I'm sorry about last night," Carla knew he didn't deserve to be treated badly and had decided that morning, now they were married she must be a good wife for him and any feelings for somebody else needed to be forgotten about.

"Don't worry about it," he moved closer to her, she put her arms around his neck as he continued, "we're married now, and nothing could make me happier." Frank moved in to kiss her lightly, their lips only touching briefly until he spoke again, "apart from going to the Maldives of course!"

Their flight was in a couple of hours; Frank had prepared everything. He had only booked their honeymoon a few days ago but started buying her 'honeymoon gifts' not long after they got engaged. He'd bought her perfume, jewellery, a couple of designer evening dresses; he even coordinated his own outfits so they didn't clash with hers. Carla never paid a lot of attention to what he had bought for her; she'd always had a doubt the wedding would go ahead, especially the week before. Subsequently she would tell him to keep the tags on everything, which he didn't.

"Well, we should get back to the flat, then," Carla said as she untangled herself from him.

Frank sniggered as he moved round to the boot of the car, Carla in pursuit. "No need!" He announced as he opened the door to reveal their suit cases lined up neatly, "Everything is ready to go!"

Leanne had spotted the two of them from across the road. Her former friend looked happy with her new spouse which took her by surprise. Leanne had remembered the quite rowdy state Carla had gotten herself into later on last night; she wasn't judging her, more times then she'd like to remember, Leanne had gotten herself far too drunk for comfort. Before her own wedding to Peter, she did some terrible mistakes because she wasn't sure she was doing the right thing. Leanne had even thought that Carla was trying to lure Peter into helping her, trap him in her vulnerability. She had swiftly left the reception with her husband before he even thought about helping her. Therefore, she thought she understood Carla's seemingly self-destruction. To see her standing in public with Frank, appearing to be so pleased with herself, was not what Leanne was expecting.

"Enjoying married life?" Leanne asked loudly as she made her way over to the couple. She had decided not to make some sort of dig at Carla about her inevitable sore head, knowing they had been trying recently to repair their friendship.

"Yes, absolutely!" Frank declared, one of his arms collapsing over his wife's shoulder. Carla smiled in response, hoping Leanne had come for a pleasant chat, nothing underlying. "Where's Peter?" He questioned, making Carla feel slightly on edge. She didn't know why he'd ask that, or why he'd care, but just prayed her discomfort wasn't visible.

"Just in the bookies, I'm on the coffee run," Leanne replied gesturing to the two cups in her hand.

"Well, make sure you tell him we're off to the Maldives!" Frank had a smirk across his face as Carla looked at him questioningly.

"You're trying to make him jealous!" Leanne was sure not to tell her husband this; she knew Peter thought far too often of Carla and Frank as it was. She shifted her gaze over to Carla, "I'm dead chuffed for you, I really am."


	3. Chapter 3

Frank watched in awe at his wife lying on the sun lounger. He was waiting for the cocktails he'd just ordered for the two of them at the bar and could still see her from across the pool. She wasn't under any shade; her body was under full exposure of the sun as her skin tanned itself. She was wearing a small black bikini which the fit her full breasts like a dream to Frank. Her body was easily the best on display, he decided. Her dark hair was wet after she had a swim, which only made her even more desirable to him. She wasn't wearing any makeup which showcased her natural beauty, although Frank preferred her to be dolled up. It was half way through their holiday together, Frank was certain it had all gone to plan so far. The days were perfect for him as they swam together in the sea, or in the pool. Their love for each other was evident to all the other holiday makers, he thought. The other men would eye him with envy, something he had wanted all his life. Then most nights were even better; after treating her to wonderful à la carte meals, they'd enjoy sweet sex together when she'd put out. _Everything was unspoiled. _Frank didn't want to go back to Weatherfield; he liked to have Carla to himself. Yes, it would be good to show off but _if that bastard tried to ruin everything…_

Frank's thoughts were disturbed when the barman gave him his drinks; he paid quickly and made his way back to his wife, his fist still clenched with anger as he thought of Peter Barlow.

Carla knew he was watching her. She wanted to be flattered he couldn't keep his eyes off her; she knew how much he thought of her. But she had something else on her mind. She had dialled Peter's number on her mobile phone; it had been one of only a few moments away from Frank. She only wanted a short chat with Peter as she hadn't spoken to him since the very fleeting encounter at the Bistro. He had seen her drunk later that night and she didn't want him to worry about her, as he does. It was already ringing until she hurriedly cancelled the call, as she noticed Frank was near and gave him her best smile whilst she discretely put the phone back into her beach bag.

* * *

Peter was disappointed to see he'd missed the call. He'd wanted to ring Carla, but wouldn't have known what to say. But now his mind went into overdrive of what she wanted to talk about. Was something the matter? She possibly wanted to talk to him about having too much to drink the last time he saw her but there was no need – she had Frank to help her now, although he'd always feel some concern for Carla, it was time to move on.

"Are you listening to me?" Leanne scorned at him as he returned his phone in his back pocket, she was worried why she still wasn't pregnant and his seeming lack of want for a baby together was winding her up further.

"You've just had a miscarriage-" he voiced until he stopped himself mid-sentence, he didn't mean to sound as heartless as he did and a saddened Leanne looked to the ground. "I'm sorry,"

She decided to skirt past his remark, "I just want us to get to the doctors, see if there is anything we should know,"

Peter nodded as she brushed past him towards their telephone. He wanted Leanne to be happy, and knew a baby would do that. But a baby wasn't something _he_ wanted, which was something she refused to acknowledge. He had only told Carla about his true feelings towards a baby with Leanne. His mind dashed back to Carla again, wanting to escape his current mess.

* * *

_They were two quite awful chapters, but I lose motivation when writing Leanne!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks again for the reviews! _

* * *

"We should be getting our test results back soon," Leanne's voice was quiet as she toyed with her glass; she gave her father-in-law a slight smile that barely reached her eyes.

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about." Ken spoke reassuringly, looking to his son from across the table. Peter had his arm around his wife, gazing to the floor as he nodded a little. Ken noticed he hadn't put a lot of input to the conversation, occasionally offering a 'yeah' and looked away to avoid eye contact. It could be that Peter was just as worried as Leanne about the results, or it could be that he simply didn't want to become a father again. Ken hoped it was the former, although he knew that was the least likely.

"I'm just going to the little girl's room," Leanne announced as she grabbed her bag, moving out of the booth. Ken watched her until she was out of ear shot before he leaned onto the table towards Peter.

"You do want a baby, don't you?" His voice was low but stern. Peter shifted slightly in his seat before looking into his dad's eyes and gave him a possibly forced smile.

"Course I do,"

"You can't let Leanne down, Peter-"

Peter rolled his eyes at Ken's remark, shaking his head before looking away. It was typical of his father; always expecting the worst of him, waiting for him to fail instead of giving advice, or non-judgemental support. Peter took a deep breath as he prepared his response, to try and knock his father off his high horse.

Something suddenly stopped him before he even began; _they had just walked in. _Carla and Frank, hand in hand, walked over to the bar as they were greeted by Frank's squealing mother and his father. They were both tanned, laughing and talking loudly. It was nice to see her look so content, although Peter noted how he felt his heart sink a little at seeing them so happy together. They hadn't even noticed him as they ordered their drinks, and took a table out of Peter's sight. Peter looked back to his father, forgetting what he was going to say to him.

Carla took a sip of her fizzy water; she hadn't ordered alcohol, Frank had tried to assure her that the guests had been just as drunk as her on their wedding night and wouldn't have noticed a thing, including his parents. But the people who hadn't been drunk that night, Peter, Leanne and Frank, were, Carla thought, the ones that mattered. The conversation around her was a blur; she smiled and laughed when she thought was appropriate. Peter had watched her walk in, she knew that. Carla wanted to smile at him, Leanne too if she was with him, but didn't want Frank to notice and cause a fuss.

Leanne walked back into the room and immediately noticed Carla with Frank. Avoiding eye contact, she returned to her own table. "They're back then," She wanted to know her husband's thoughts, but as he smiled at her and took a drink of his orange juice, she found him hard to read. Ken changed the subject as he began to talk about something to do with Deirdre. Peter wasn't listening, his eyes narrowed as he tried to process his own thoughts.

"I'm going for a fag," he stated and moved away from their table before Leanne could respond. Carla's stomach knotted up when she saw him, their eyes lingered for a moment until he left to the Rovers' yard. She had tried to forget him on her honeymoon with Frank; her phone call to him was, she decided, desperate and silly. Thinking about it afterwards, she was glad they hadn't spoken, Frank was her future now and she didn't need to lean on Peter anymore. But seeing him in the flesh again, Carla couldn't help her feelings come back to her. She had noticed he looked stressed. Was it because of her? Looking at Frank, she was sure he hadn't seen Peter walk by as he showed his parents their honeymoon photos on his phone.

"I'm just off to the bathroom," Carla whispered to Frank, as he gave her a nod. She did feel guilty, but she was only going to talk to her friend, she told herself.

Outside, Peter was sat on his own under the shelter from the light rain. His cigarette was between his fingers which he was gazing at, fixed in his own thoughts. Carla sat near to him, feeling familiar to his scent of aftershave and cigarette smoke.

"Have a good holiday?" He didn't look at her, just stayed transfixed to his hand.

"Not bad, thanks. How are-" Carla hadn't come for awkward small talk, she needed to know why he seemed so down.

He interrupted her as he knew what she was doing, "bet you miss the weather though." He finally looked up as he referred to the rain.

"Definitely,"

They sat in silence for a few moments; Carla didn't want to push him knowing what he could be like. The pair of them just watched the rain fall together until she spoke again, wary of the time. "What's the matter, Peter?"

He didn't answer immediately, but he was touched that she was concerned for him. "It's fine, you don't need to worry." He offered her a small smile and stubbed his cigarette.

Frank had noticed how long his wife was, and that Peter had disappeared too. He'd seen how the bookie had stormed out the Rovers, trying to get Carla's attention. He knew about her phone call to him during their holiday; he'd checked her phone. The alcoholic probably tried to get in Carla's head before they left. Confusing her. And now he was doing it again. He gulped his anger down as he laughed with his parents over the photos.


	5. Chapter 5

Carla lounged back in her swivel chair as she watched Frank continue to talk on his mobile phone. He strides around the office, files in hand, laughing away and his charm offensive in live action. The female client on the other side was sure to be enjoying it; all the women seem to love the suave factory owner, _apart from his own wife._

She chewed on the end of her pen, remaining to observe Frank from across the room. It wasn't fabricated. His personality inside the workplace was his real character. _It must be._ Carla had never seen him let his guard down. Reserved could be a good word to describe him. Or closed. There were no layers to him. No vulnerability. He was the complete opposite to Peter Barlow.

The couple caught each other's eyes and Frank smiled at her, seemingly questioning why she was staring at him. Consequently, Carla broke the gaze and turned her attention back to her laptop on top of the desk before her. She already knew how she felt when Frank looked at her. _Nothing. _As the weeks went on, Carla felt increasingly frustrated at herself for her complete _lack_ of feel for him. She wanted to, so badly. But every time he'd simply smile at her, or even kiss her, she just didn't feel anything. Not like Peter. She'd only have to be in the same room as him and her stomach would turn in knots. No matter how much she didn't want to feel it.

It was ridiculous really. She did find Frank attractive and he was intelligent. And level-headed. And honest_. _Things Peter found so difficult, Frank clearly the better man.

But Peter had managed to make her love him. Naturally, she very much fancied him, but it was far more than that. He understood her. He cared for her when everyone else would turn their back. He was the most selfish man, however could also be incredibly selfless. He plainly wants to be a good guy, yet is often painted as the villain, by his own family or Leanne. Carla could understand. The two of them were so different on paper, but actually very similar deep down. They even shared a similar sense of humour.

Frank snapped her out of her thoughts, "Pen?"

Coming back to earth, she searched her desk, visibly disorientated by her previous thinking. Frank gestured to the pen still hanging in her mouth as she let out a little nervous laugh before giving it to him. He quickly jotted what must have been a meeting time down onto a scrap piece of paper and gave the pen back to Carla.

"Are you ok?" He asked after his phone call ended. His voice was somewhat condescending, causing Carla to feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Fine," she quickly decided to change the subject, unsure how she could respond if he asked her of her problem, "She's interested then?" Carla asked, referring to his earlier talk.

"I think so," Frank announced smugly, "and this is a brilliant potential order." He sat down to his own desk, gathering some paper together.

"Good,"

"And," he continued, "If we continue to make such big profits, we'll be able to buy a new house very soon-"

Carla didn't know how to react. It would absolutely only make sense for the two of them to leave her flat. But she didn't want to. Her flat probably meant more to Carla than he did. She nodded as she kept her eyes on her computer screen, willing for him to stop talking.

"-a much bigger house than that other one I showed you too," Frank either didn't notice, or chose not to address her apparent uneasiness, "After all we'll need a big house, when we have children…"

Carla nearly choked on her pen lid. _Children? Please god no._

"Yeah," She insincerely agreed as she desperately hunted through her emails to talk about something else. _Hallelujah. _"Eh, Frank, have you seen this?" She then proceeded to read the email to Frank whilst he listened.

"Michelle and Ciaran's wedding is on their cruise ship?" Frank asked for clarification, he had never met Ciaran before and wasn't sure he wanted to, knowing he was a good friend of Peter Barlow's.

"Yes, in a month's time," Carla confirmed, "And I'll be maid of honour!" She was genuinely very excited to see Michelle again, but equally wanted to take a break from married life, even if Frank came too. "We will have to leave this place with Sally Webster again though,"

"My parents can help her out," Frank suggested, "speaking of which, we were supposed to be meeting them for lunch at the Bistro."

Carla could feel anxiety creep upon her. She was thankful his parents didn't seem to hate her, but Carla still didn't feel as though she belonged. On every occasion they would meet, she was nervous she'd do something wrong, the family were certainly not people that instantly put her at ease.

* * *

Together they strolled along the pavement, Frank's hand wrapped around Carla's waist. The couple in unison spotted Peter across the road. He had a carton of milk in his hand as he walked from Dev's shop. He had on a pair of faded jeans with a white t-shirt which exposed his slightly tanned, tattooed arms. Frank pulled his wife closer to him as Peter came nearer to them. The two men gave each other polite nods as they crossed paths, Peter avoiding Carla's gaze. Frank almost gave out a sigh of relief that Barlow hadn't said anything to them.

"Ay," Peter started as he remembered, "are you two invited to the wedding, then?"

Carla spun round in Frank's arm, as her husband tried to hide is annoyance that Peter had initiated conversation, turning around to see him behind them.

"Yeah, so you and Leanne are going?" Carla hadn't forgotten their encounter the previous evening and wondered how Leanne would respond to a wedding invite abroad when their own marriage was obviously undergoing some stress at the moment.

"Well, I'm not gonna miss my best man duties," Peter replied with a grin.

Frank could feel his irritation rise through his body as he held his own smile, "We've got to go, see you in the pub tonight though?" Frank had no intention of meeting the bookie in the Rover's that evening, but enjoyed to have Carla believe so.

"Sure," Peter left the couple and made his own way down the street.

Carla noticed Frank pulling her a little forcefully, walking a pace faster towards the bistro. He had it mapped out in his head. His self and Carla could be away from the street and away from Peter once more. But the thought of the alcoholic and his wife in the sunshine, on a ship, maid of honour and best man, made Frank shudder. He had to put a stop to it before it even started.

"I've left my wallet in the office," he announced as they came closer to the eatery. Carla looked slightly confused, certain she had seen him with it as they locked up. "I won't be long," Frank dashed off quickly before she could respond.

He soon caught up with Peter, who was just outside his betting shop. Frank called his name and the bookie turned round, startled to see he had followed him. Peter looked uncertain at Frank, as he stood in front of him.

"I was just wondering," Frank began, "is it a good idea, us all going to the wedding together?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Peter knew very well why it wasn't a good idea, but was unsure what Frank knew.

"Well, you and Leanne-"

Peter's eyes narrowed. What had Carla told him? Whilst he hadn't gone into detail of his own marital problems when they had spoken, he had guessed Carla would've worked out there was an issue.

Frank stopped himself, "_Carla _and Leanne," he corrected, "They still don't get on very well."

Peter had thought the women were getting along better these days, "but wouldn't the wedding help?"

"Or their bitterness could ruin the whole atmosphere?" Frank felt satisfied to watch Peter seem to agree with his words. He gave him a pat on the arm and made his way back to the bistro.

Peter trudged to his shop door thinking about what Frank had said. In some ways he did agree with him, but there was no way he wasn't going to this wedding, he needed it to take his mind off his and Leanne's troubles, for his own sanity.

He rifled through his jeans pocket for the key as he discovered Leanne had locked it. Opening the door, he found his wife behind the counter, face smeared with eye makeup. Peter noticed the letter in her hand. _The results. _


End file.
